


Lying in a Sunflower Field

by ThatDarnLakeSiren



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (?), (sorta?), Angst, Autistic Character, Dragons, Fluff, Found Family, Headcanon, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lotta cultural ideas thrown around at least-, Minor Injuries, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24935308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDarnLakeSiren/pseuds/ThatDarnLakeSiren
Summary: Sometimes, sometimes things turned out alright. And most of the time they blew up in his face, like everything else in Zuko's life. He'd learned how to keep everything at a distance, so its destruction or the inevitable betrayal wouldn't hurt (as badly).
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	1. Not The Last

The day had gone on normally, or what now passed for normal for a young exiled prince. Traveling between towns, doing whatever jobs he could to earn a meal and a nights stay, before moving on the next day. Today, it had been working with farm animals, largely ostrich-horses. Mucking out the stables and feeding the beasts and checking for injury. 

It was something Zuko knew how to do, at least somewhat. Taking care of one's mount was an important skill, afterall. Cleaning out their stalls was beneath him, but despite the farmowners laughter at his disgusted expression, the large Earth Kingdom man had been fairly good-natured about the whole thing, tossing some soap and a towel his way.

It was the wife that had invited him to eat with them. She was courteous and polite, and her gaze had alighted but a moment on his scar, and he sensed no pity in her gaze. (Zuko suspected that she had slipped him a sort of sweet jam made of a fruit he didn't recognize out of pity...). 

The couple didn't have room for him in their house (a lie), so he bunked in the loft of their barn. The straw was comfortable enough, compared to hard dirt or wood, and he'd been given a blanket as well. After the hard days work, Zuko fell asleep within minutes.

* * *

A distant slam and angry ranting jerked Zuko out of his light sleep. He drew in a breath, inner fire blazing, ready to be drawn from. The barn was wooden, and he was lying in straw. Not the best place to fight with fire, and if his mount was caught in the resulting blaze, then he'd be fleeing on foot. He reached for his swords instead...

Zuko could hear the barn door creaked open, huffed angry breathing, a sharp _whump_ as someone hit the ground, then the farm-owners voice spat, "-and you'll stay out here until you can speak _properly_ , you fucking brat!" a hard thump of something hard hitting something soft, a sharp squeak of pain... and angry footsteps stalked off, the barn door creaking shut. 

He waited until the footsteps had receded, then crept to the edge of the loft. Curled up on the ground, just on the edge of silver moonlight, was a child. Shaking and trembling from pain or fear or both. The child shifted, slowly, after the footsteps had long since receded. Rising first to their knees, a hand brushing over their torso with a wince a short hitched breath. Then, up to their feet, a hand running through tangled hair, fluffing it out, other arm wrapping loosely around their chest. 

The child breathed in, slowly, held it, then let it out, slowly. Poked and prodded at their chest, checking how badly they were hurt... must be a scrappy kid, to be used to checking for injury. But... Zuko doubted the kid had simply gotten into a fight. Least of all with the farmowner, who seemed to have some amount of authority of the child--

They looked up, suddenly, eyes flashing silver in the moonlight as they met Zuko's golden gaze. Blinked. Blinked again, a hand raised to block the meager light, squinting, before silver -- _grey_ , grey eyes, it was just the light-- widened in shock. The kid didn't breathe a word, just stared up at Zuko. The kid raised their hands to their face, scrubbing at their eyes, and Zuko crept back, out of sight.

There was a sudden gust of wind and then- gray eyes were meeting Zuko's gold, the kid just managing to grasp the edge of the loft. 

A long, heavy pause.

Then, the kid started to slide backwards.

Unthinking, Zuko lunged forward, grabbing the kid by the wrists and pulling him up into the loft. The kid made a muted cry of pain, but worked _with_ Zuko, scrambling upwards until he didn't need the support anymore. He rubbed at his left arm, well above the wrist, hissing out a pained breath, not-quite-looking at Zuko, curious and yet, oozing with anxiety.

Zuko, meanwhile, was questioning what exactly had just happened- and was mentally skirting some uncomfortable conclusions. The kid had managed to jump a good fifteen feet into the air like it was nothing. Just like a certain airbending child he'd been chasing across the whole damn world. And the eyes- they were a benders eyes. Zuko had never seen another airbender other than the avatar but- what other explanation was there for such soft gray eyes, when no one else in the earth kingdom had them?

"You're an airbender, aren't you?" Zuko asked. Which- should have been impossible. The Air Nomads had been wiped out a hundred years ago. But- but clearly, _some_ had escaped, somehow. Enough for their to be some descendants, like this child (how much of their own culture did they even have left...? Did this kid even know what he was- what his history was...?)

The child flinched, visibly paling. Slowly, he nodded. Eyes wide and scared and tearing up, the child stuttered out, "Pl-pl-pluh-ease, ease d-d-d-d-doh-nnn-tuh, t-t-t-" the child huffed sharply, growing frustrated admit his upset, pressing on doggedly, "-eh-ell, mm-m-m-m-my ff... f-f-fah-ther... pl-pl-- _pluh-ease_."

"...was the man who brought you in here your...?" the kid nodded quickly, starting to slowly rock in place. Zuko cut himself off. "I won't tell him." 

The boy regarded him uncertainly, rubbing at the tears starting to leak down his face. "Pruh-prom-issss?" (It sounded less like stuttering, and more like the boy was struggling just to form the word in the first place.)

"I swear on my honor that I won't tell him, or your mother." Zuko promised. He had been tasked with capturing the Avatar, not with finding or reporting airbenders as a whole. 

(The balance of the world was still thrown askew, but- the Avatar wasn't the very last of his kind- others lingered, and the cycle hadn't been completely broken.)

The boy blinked at him, tilting his head, apparently curious, but simply nodded. Apparently reassured, he began to relax again, posture loosening until he was sat back a little, dangerously near the edge. 

(The Avatar had fallen a lot farther and survived without even a scrape or a bruise to be seen.) 

Zuko's head was whirling with too many thoughts and revelations, body dragged down by fatigue. He needed to sleep- he could deal with this tomorrow. He stood, and went over to his temporary bed- a blanket thrown over a nest of straw.

Footsteps, barely there, trailing a pace behind. Zuko turned a glare on the child, who darted glances at him, meeting his gaze before looking away again. "What?" he grunted, lying down in his makeshift bed.

The boy hummed softly, shifted about five feet away into the straw itself, and without preamble flopped back, the pile cushioning his fall. He curled into a loose ball until he resembled a napping owl-cat. Seemingly uncaring of the stranger hiding away in his fathers the loft. Zuko turned to face the child, suspicious despite himself, but the childs breathing evened out into sleep less than a minute after he'd curled up. A shocking amount of trust shown to someone he'd scarce spoken to for even ten minutes.

Before long, exhaustion won out over his swirling thoughts on the Air Nomads and what he'd learned back home and the child that trusted far too easily.

(With a living breathing person nearby, Zuko's nightmares seemed reluctant to surface.)


	2. An Offer That Can't Be Refused-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small edit- mostly realized I'd dropped a few words in part of Zuko's thoughts somewhere.

Zuko woke up before dawn to the sound of soft footsteps in the loft. He realized two things in rapid succession.

There was a breathing, curled up form against his back. And the child curling up with him last night had not woken him when he'd invaded Zuko's personal space. Neither of these things were terribly comforting in all honesty. The boy was foolish to trust so quickly and so blindly--

( _"If we'd met a hundred years ago, could we have been friends?"_ )

\--and how had he _not woken up_ when something had wound up pressed up against him?

 _Focus_. Zuko opened his eyes to mere slits, trying to see who or what else was in the loft. In the grey light, all he could work out was that the approaching figure was wrapped in hood and cloak. He could just reached his swords-

"Wally?" the figure softly called. That- that was the farmowner's wife- what was her name? Wilma, wasn't it? "Wally... wake up kiddo..." 

Zuko continued to feign sleep as Wilma gently shook the boy curled against him. The kid shifted, starting to rouse, but flinched back into himself with a low whine of pain. This pressed him further into Zuko- who finally "woke up". He reached for his blades with one hand, and placed an arm over the kid with the other, glowering up at Wilma. 

"Oh- sorry to have woken you, Lee." Wilma says, startled, but not surprised. She had a basket in one hand, bundled up in a cloak that quite handily hid her features until she pulled the hood down. She set the basket aside. "I was just coming to check up on my son..."

"So you know." Zuko snapped, grasp tightening on the kid when he felt a soft touch against his arm, not pushing away. "You know what that man did to him."

Wilma tilted her head, surprised at the statement. Her mouth pressed into a thin line, "I do. But that does not mean I condone it." she replied. Her expression was near unreadable. 

Zuko grit his teeth. "Then fight _back_ and stop him if he's being such an asshole!" And, a moment too late, remembered that earth kingdom were woman very rarely taught how to fight or defend themselves...

Wilma looked over Zuko, pondering his expression, then shook her head. "I am not strong enough for that." she breathed a sigh, weighted with exhaustion. "I am doing my best, to keep us both alive." 

He did _not_ like the implications of that.

Wally pat at Zuko's shoulder, murmuring softly. A reassurance. Then, gently nudged Zuko's arm away, shifting out of the nest. Movements stiff, careful, still hurting from last night. But, without hesitation, the kid nuzzled into Wilma, muttering soft, happy sound when his mother gently hugged him. 

Things lapsed into silence. Wilma tended to her sons wounds, pulling medicine and bandages from the basket. Wally nibbled on a bit of bread heaped with jam as his mother checked his back. What glimpses Zuko had made his blood boil, and he had to take several meditative breaths to keep his hands from bursting in to flames.

The boys back was painted with bruises old and new, blue-black layered over greens and yellows, marring his skin. Healing scabs and fresh scrapes littered the boys skin, further clues as to the nature of the assault. This wasn't a one-time occurrence. This childs absolute bastard of a father was beating his own son... entirely undeserved. There was no reasonable explanation for such- such blatant abuse. This wasn't a punishment, this was a senseless beating.

"...why tolerate this?" Zuko asked several minutes later. Dawn was casting soft gold light through the barn. Wally's bruised torso was hidden beneath layers of medicines and bandages. His mouth was lined with jam and crumbs. The child faced away from the window, eyes closed. "Why not... leave? Get away from- him."

Wilma hummed softly, gently checking over the bandaging. "I wish I could. If I were to simply vanish... the whole town would be in an uproar. Walter- my husband- he's got such a sway over the townfolk. His business is good, and the way he carries himself- they think that he is good, when he is not. We wouldn't be able to get away quick enough, and if we took a mount- things would only go worse for Wally and I, I'm afraid. The ostrich-horses are the farms livelihood and legacy. We would be branded as criminals, possibly hunted."

"So there's nothing you can do." Zuko concludes, gaze turning to the dawning light. He prickled at the feeling of eyes on him, and looked up. 

Wilma met his gaze evenly, thoughtful. "You're traveling, aren't you?" she asks, continuing before Zuko could reply, "I have a brother. He had talked of building... a sort of workshop, far from here. He said that we were always welcome... and I'm thinking it might be time for a visit. Would you care to join us?" 

Zuko stilled. There was- something hidden here, some ulterior motive or intent. He scowled at her. "Whats the catch?" There was _always_ a catch- and the way she was looking at him was sending off a thread of panic in him. She looked- hopeful. Like Zuko could _help her_. Her and her son. He wasn't- people weren't- he was entirely unused to people depending on him or- or- _what was the Agni-damned catch?!_

Wilma chuckled softly, "You go ahead with my son. I'll take a... somewhat different route, before joining you. You need not go the entire way at all, if you don't care to travel too far out of your way. We could meet somewhere, and Wally and I could finish the journey together." she reached for the basket, pulling more bread and a small thing of jam, holding them out in apparent offering- or bribery. "I'll pay you of course. It would really be helpful, if you could do this for my son and I."

"I-" Zuko grit his teeth, trying to think this through. She wasn't lying- that much he was sure of. But her wording... and what she was saying... she was planning something. "So, what, you're planning to travel on foot?" he asks, skeptical.

Wilma smiled a hint, shaking her head. "No, I don't." 

No mention of riding an ostrich-horse... but that was the most likely way she'd go about it. And he wasn't sure, he'd never be sure until later, and he wasn't sure why she wouldn't just lay out a plan outright. However... it sounded like, Wilma intended to lead her husband off on a wild snapping turtle-goose chase, while Zuko smuggled her son away. 

And... she'd pay him for it. Likely stealing from her own husband to do it, no less. 

...Zuko nodded. The money would help- and- even without- he didn't want to leave the kid here. Not if he could help, somehow. The kid- the kid deserved better, and Wilma deserved better. And... he wanted to help. It wasn't much- but- it was something he could do, even if he was simply escorting a kid ultimately.

"I'll do it. When should we leave?" 

Wilma hummed softly, her smile one of pure relief and gratefulness. "Thank you so much, Lee." She rummaged through the basket as she spoke, "I would need to go back to the house to collect your payment, but the sooner we leave, the better." She took something out of the basket and passed it to her son. 

Wally pulled- what Zuko had initially thought was a headband, and settled it over his face... it was leather-made, with two darkened circles of glass set in them, settled firmly over his eyes, completely obscuring them. It was... a little unnerving, not knowing where the kid was looking. He didn't understand the purpose of such an odd head-piece, either.

"I'll ready my mount." Zuko replied, rising to his feet. Didn't matter, what the kid decided to wear- (although, in the back of his mind, Zuko realized that it hid the boys eyes from the rest of the world).

Wilma rose to her feet as well, and held out her hand. Zuko reached out to shake it- but, instead of shake his hand, she clasped it in both of hers, "Thank you, again. I owe you far more than simple coin. May the winds be in your favor." she let go, then kneeled before her son. "Stay safe, and listen to Lee, alright sweet?" She gently took his face in her hands.

Wally nodded, nuzzling into the contact, making a series of soft chirps and murmuring wordlessly. He shuffled over, curling into his mother with a few small winces. Wilma carefully wrapped her arms around him, nudging their heads together.

Zuko looked away, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He snapped up his pack, stealthily checking over his blades before tucking everything away. "I hope you're a better rider than you are a talker." he said gruffly, moving to climb down from the loft. 

A hand caught his arm and Zuko sucked in a breath, inner fire flaring, but he let himself be turned around, leaving him face-to-face with Wilma. Her eyes were fierce as storm clouds, her words quiet but so, so protective. "My son may be of few words, but do not treat him like some ignorant fool. He's trained and helped raise more than half of the animals in this barn and many more that have been sold to many high-paying bidders."

Zuko just nodded, pulling his arm free when her grip loosened, struggling to hide his growing alarm. He didn't want to know what sort of blade she had hidden up her sleeves.

Wally had risen to his feet as well. He shifted between his mother and Zuko, muttering pleading noise up at her, hands raised. Trying to calm his mother before- what? She did something rash? It wasn't like the kid could- really do _anything_ to stop his mother if she decided to attack Zuko. 

(He found himself appreciating the attempt, anyway.)

Wilma sucked in a breath, and released it slowly, taking a step back so they weren't all crowded at the edge of the loft. "...I'll be back in fifteen minutes with your payment. Be ready." And without any other warning, she jumped from the loft to the ground. 

She landed in a neat crouch, stood, and calmly walked out. 

There was a quiet chirping at his side, and Zuko glanced down at Wally, who was clutching the basket his mother had left behind. He tilted his head towards the ladder, and Zuko took the hint, and clambered down. In the five minutes it took him to saddle his ostrich-horse, the kid had managed his way down the ladder, and was waiting quietly nearby. 

"Quiet" was relative, however. The kid made all sorts of soft noise to himself, bird-like chirps and twitters, as well as some other odd noises. He at least was making an effort to be quiet. The barely-there sounds were a little distracting, but ten minutes in, and Zuko had managed to largely tune it out.

Fifteen minutes, then twenty, and Zuko finally decided to push the barn door open. He wasn't sure what might be delaying Wilma- probably her husband, actually-

Oh.

_Oh._

The farm house was on fire.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Lemme know what you think in the comments, comments and kudos let me know what y'all think of this. Have a good day lovelies!


End file.
